Bite Me!
by Night Witch the Third
Summary: Werewolves are slowly taking over the town of South Park, and it looks like the goths and the vamp kids are the only ones who can stop this outbreak. But when one of the goths gets attacked by the head werewolf, she claims she's fine. But when her friends start to notice that Henrietta's behavior has become more...wolfish, they'll have to find the source, or lose their friend.
1. Chapter 1: New Kids Suck!

**Bite Me!**

 **So, I wanted to write a fanfiction about the goths, because they usually end up being my favorite thing about an episode. They aren't my favorite characters, but they sure are hilarious, especially when given their own episodes to shine in. So, I decided to think of a story for them. It's about werewolves, vampires, and goths. And it's told entirely in Pete's point of view, because for some reason, I just love the first-person point of view. Anyway, here you go. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter One – New Kids suck!**

It was the beginning of a bleary, dark filled September day when all of the trouble started. Not that there isn't always trouble in South Park, the town sucks after all, but still, this god-damned story starts in September. Hennrietta, Michael, Firkle and I were thinking of just skipping school that day and hang out behind it like we always did. It was early in the morning, and thankfully dark rain clouds covered the blasted sun, so we didn't need to hide in the shadows.

The only problem was that PC Principal, whom I'd like to go on record as saying is the biggest and worst conformist that there is, had caught wind that my friends and I were finding better things to do with our time than get brainwashed by conformists trying to teach their conformist morals. So, when we made our way behind the school, we were quite surprised to see him back there, already waiting for us.

"Aha!" he said, stepping out from behind some boxes and pointing at us. "I knew it! I knew you were shirking your classes! Now get your butts back in that building and have yourselves an education!" I hated him so much.

"Why?" Michael hissed before we could move. "Just so you can turn us into conformist sheep who only do what the man tells us to?"

PC Principal growled at us, grabbed all four of us by the collars and hoisted us off our feet. Firkle was trying to struggle out of his grasp while he was telling us that the four of us had detention, and he brought us back inside the building. Once we were back inside, he set us all back on solid ground.

"Now, who are your homeroom teachers?" he asked us. None of us answered. I don't know about the others, but I honestly couldn't remember my homeroom teacher's name. Hennrietta and I were in our junior year of high school, but it was the start of the year and we hadn't exactly been going to homeroom every day (or ever). I was pretty sure Hennrietta and I shared the same homeroom teacher, but she looked just as clueless as I was.

The conformist asshole of a principal sighed when none of us gave him an answer. "Just get to class," he snapped at us. He turned his back on us, so he didn't see Firkle flip him off, and I was surprised that he actually thought we would do what we were told. I mean, we did do what we were told, but only because a bunch of teachers were standing in the hallway listening to all of that, so we couldn't really just walk out the door again.

Also, Michael's teacher was standing right there. He let out a sigh of frustration.

"I'll see you guys later then, I guess," he hissed, stepping into the room. I watched him go before turning back to my other two friends. Firkle was still staring at where PC Principal had left, with his middle finger still pointed in his direction. I let out a sigh.

"Come on, let's get this over with," I told him, brushing my hair out of my eyes. Firkle looked like he wanted to argue with me, but he followed after me and Hennrietta anyways.

"I can't believe that asshole gave us detention!" Hennrietta snarled as we set off down the hall. "School hasn't even started yet! We could have been doing anything back there! He didn't know we were ditching."

"He just wants us to be conformist sheep like the rest of them," Firkle noted.

"I'm never going to hear the end of it from my mom," Hennrietta groaned. "That bitch is always abusing me anyways, but now she's probably going to ground me because I got detention and don't fit her fucking views of what normal is!"

"That's rough, man," Firkle replied. "My parents are conformists who think detention is where all of 'non-perfect' kids go."

I didn't make any reply to their comments. I hadn't particularly seen or talked to either of my parents in quite a while. They could be dead for all I knew. When I was fourteen, my parents, sick of me rebelling against everything they told me, said that when I lived under their roof, I lived by their rules. So now, there was a trailer parked permanently in their drive-way where I had been living there for about two years. A sort of "my own roof, my own rules" sort of thing. Sure, I still saw them at like dinner time and stuff, but we barely talked to each other. Still, I didn't have nearly as much to complain about as my friends did, since I technically didn't live with my evil, conformist parents.

Hennrietta suddenly nudged me in the side. "I'm pretty sure that's our homeroom," she told me, nodding towards a room next to us. I glanced at it, then back at her.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "I remember Stan and his friends being with us in homeroom."

I took another glance and now noticed that she was right. I could clearly see Stan from where we were standing, talking to his friends. Michael and Firkle were still mad about Stan joining us and then becoming a conformist again soon after, but I had gotten over it a long time ago. Mostly because I really didn't care. If he wanted to live in denial, that was his problem.

"See you later, Firkle," I told our youngest friend before following Hennrietta into the room. Our teacher looked vaguely surprised to see us walk in, as well as most of the class room, but we ignored them and took seats in the back of the class.

"OK, class," our teacher (which I now remembered was a boy, now that I actually had a good look at him) said. "We have a new student joining us today. PC Principal wanted me to introduce him and make sure that he felt welcome here." I rolled my eyes. Of course, PC Principal wanted that! That attention seeking whore couldn't mind his own business! "Mr. Little, would you come up and introduce yourself, please?"

The student in the corner opposite of us let out a long, obnoxious sigh and slowly stood up. I had to stop myself from letting out a groan. He was wearing a sideways hat, a plaid shirt and a stupid vest and tie, and nothing he was wearing matched. I could see that his muddy blonde hair was cut in the most pretentious haircut I had ever seen.

"Oh no," I muttered under my breath. It was obvious what this kid was. Worse than a vampire, or emo, or even a conformist. "He's a hipster!"

 **My apologies for anyone who considers themselves a hipster, but I am going to be ripping on them. Anti-conformists annoy the heck out of me. Not the ones who are anti-conformists who actually believe in whatever lifestyles they choose. I'm talking about the people who hate anything popular simply because it's popular. The hipsters who think they're ahead of their time, even though they are just conforming to a different group. I don't care if you like or dislike something, but if the reason you like it is simply because it's popular or unpopular, then I'm going to tune you out. The new kid is going to be that sort of person who does the exact opposite of what everyone else is doing simply to be different. He is not going to get along with the goths. So, that's going to be fun.**

 **Sorry this chapter was so short. I'm not the best with first chapters. Once we get the ball rolling, I'll be able to type out longer chapters. Anyway, tell me what you think so far. Apparently, I take constructive criticism well, so don't hold back. Also, make sure look out. Mr. Clean might be right behind you.**


	2. Chapter 2: Hipsters Suck too

**So, we'll see how well the new student is received today, and see just how much of a douche he really is. Other than that, I'm not sure what's going to happen. We'll just make it up as we go along!**

 **Chapter Two – Hipsters suck too**

There was something about the way the new kid held himself that told me that I wasn't going to like this kid. He kept rolling his eyes at everything and looked at everyone as if it was their fault that he was there. This kid was a straight up douche.

"My name is Jake," he announced after a moment. "I hate everything popular, and don't bother talking to me, especially if you're part of the system." He adjusted his stupid hipster hat (which I swear had been a sideways baseball hat a moment ago, but now looked more like bowler hat), and sauntered back to his own seat. I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

I suddenly noticed that he was wearing sunglasses, and barely even wearing them at that. They were slightly down the edge of his nose so he could gaze disapprovingly over them. God, I could tell that I was going to hate him.

"If there's one thing that's worse than a vamp kid, it's a hipster," Hennrietta growled under her breath at me.

"Tell me about it," I sighed. "They're so pretentious, thinking that they're ahead of their time. They don't realize that they're their own conformist group."

I had a feeling that the hipster had heard us, despite our whispering, because he cast a sideways glare at us out of the corner of his eye. I rolled my eyes in response and turned back to Hennrietta. If anyone asked what the difference between goths and hipsters were, I swear I was going to punch them hard in the face.

The morning announcements came on, read by Mr. Mackey, and they dragged on. Then the bell rang for first classes, and Hennrietta and I grumbled as we slid out of our seats. I had a vague memory of where my classes were, and Hennrietta shared most of them with me. We even had a class with Michael if I remembered right.

"Why is that poser following us?" Hennrietta muttered to me suddenly. I gave her a confused look and she jerked her head over her shoulder. Sure enough, the new hipster kid was following close behind us. I couldn't help but let out an annoyed sigh.

"Knowing our luck, he probably has all the same classes as us," I growled under my breath.

"Typical," Hennrietta muttered back. I tried not to glance over my shoulder at him; the last thing you should do with a hipster is give them attention. But I could hear his footsteps quicken, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him walking next to us.

"Hey," he greeted us. "You two are goths, aren't you?"

"Yeah? So?" Hennrietta replied, narrowing her eyes at him. He let out a sigh. A sad sort of sigh, with a slight shake of the head.

"You know, it's sad, isn't it?" he asked. "Goths think they're all alone in the world, and think that they're so unique, when in fact there are hundreds of others just like them."

I immediately stopped in my tracks to whip around and glare at him. "Funny that a hipster like you would say that," I snarled at him. "And how would you know what goths are like anyway? I could easily say the same to a fucking hipster like you!" He blinked calmly at me.

"Oh, I'm not a hipster," he said as if it should have been obvious. "I don't fall into any clique, because unlike the rest of the world, I'm unique and actually think for myself."

Oh god. He was one of _those_ hipsters. The ones who don't realize or don't believe they're hipsters, so he has far less self-awareness than even the conformists he claims to be better than. I hated this guy already.

"Oh great," Hennrietta spoke up. "Another person who doesn't know the difference between an emo and a goth. Yet another child left behind."

"Seriously," I agreed. "At least we know the difference between being different and just being anti-conformist." He frowned at us.

"Hey, I was just trying to be friendly," he said as if we were in the wrong somehow. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Oh, so we're not allowed to talk to you, but you're allowed to talk to us?" I snapped. "Why don't you just get out of our faces? If we want your opinion, we'll ask for it!"

He gave me a hard stare, then gave Hennrietta a strange look that just made me hate him even more, then shrugged and walked away, heading in the same direction that we were going. I couldn't help but glare after him.

"I hate that guy," I hissed to Hennrietta. She let out a sigh in response.

"Come on, let's get to class," she prompted. I wanted to protest, but she looped her arm through mine and dragged me forward towards our classroom. Sure enough, there was the poser hipster already sitting in another corner of the room. I groaned with annoyance when I saw him. Of course, he was there.

"Let's sit at the front of the class," I muttered to Hennrietta. "I want to be as far from that poser as possible." Hennrietta didn't reply but nodded in agreement. We chose seats in the opposite corner from Jake the hipster, sitting down next to Stan who still looked vaguely surprised to see us in class.

"I haven't seen you guys in a while," Stan pointed out to us. "Don't you usually skip most of your classes?"

"We do," Hennrietta replied, rolling her eyes. "But the fucking principal caught us and forced us to go to class."

"Maybe you guys should actually start coming to class," Stan replied in a calm voice. Hennrietta glared at him.

"Don't tell me what to do," she muttered under her breath.

We didn't get to say anything more as the teacher came in and began class. Almost immediately, she mentioned that we were going to start a group project talking about current social issues around South Park and told us that she would be assigning the groups. I let out a sigh of frustration. Just another way for the teachers to keep us in class so they could attempt to brainwash us with their conformist ideas.

She read off names for different groups, until her eyes rested upon Hennrietta and me. "Pete, Hennrietta," she said with a slight sneer. "Since you've decided to grace us with your presence today, you can be in a group with Stan, Kyle and the new kid, Jake."

I tried desperately not to groan. Of course, we would get stuck with the hipster for a school project. From the look on her face, Hennrietta didn't like the idea any more than I did. I glanced next to me and saw Stan giving me a hard stare. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him.

"Alright, now everyone, get into your groups and work on what your topic will be," the teacher ordered. "This project will be due in October, so you all better get to work."

Stan and Kyle immediately shoved their desks over to join Hennrietta and me, and the hipster came sauntering over a moment later. I tried not to glare at him, but failed miserably as he sat down in between Hennrietta and me. He immediately leaned back and put his feet on my desk with a disinterested look on his face, ignoring the angry glare I was giving him.

"So, what are we doing this stupid project on?" the douchy hipster asked, putting his hands behind his head. Stan and Kyle gave him a shocked looked before exchanging glances with each other. Kyle let out a sigh and pulled out his phone to look something up.

"I don't know what our teacher wants from us," he muttered. "But apparently a lot of people are randomly disappearing around town and reappearing a couple days later with no memory of where they've been or what happened to them."

"Freaky," Hennrietta commented, resting her head on her hand.

"Bunch of attention seeking whores," the douchebag hipster commented. "Or fake news."

"Donald Trump would say that," I growled under my breath.

"It is the only thing every news channel is talking about right now," Stan pointed out before the hipster could come up with an angry retort. "It could be worth checking out. Unless you want to try finding something boring and generic to do our report on, I think it's our best bet."

"Who made you the leader?" the hipster growled. "It's not like we elected you."

"Ok," I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him. "All those in favor of making Stan the leader, raise your hand." Kyle, Hennrietta and my hands shot up into the air, and I gave a satisfied smirk to the look of anger on the asshole's face. Stan let out a defeated sigh.

"Fine," he said. "I guess we're doing this disappearance story then."

"Whatever," the hipster replied, leaning back in his chair again.

"So, how long are these people usually missing for?" Stan asked, turning to Kyle. His friend looked down at his phone for a moment.

"Between twenty-four and forty-eight hours," he replied. "Apparently, they've all been waking up in strange locations with their clothes in shreds. And there's no connection between the victims either. They're young, old, black, white, boys and girls."

"And they don't remember anything?" I wondered, curious despite my indifference.

"That's what they're saying," Kyle answered.

"Trippy," Hennrietta said, the corners of her mouth tugging up slightly.

The teacher then handed out packets explaining more about the project and how we were supposed to present them. I didn't know why she bothered; I certainly wasn't going to be showing up a lot for this class, especially if we had to work with the hipster. Stan must have read my mind though, because when the bell rang, he stopped the two of us before we could get very far out the door, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"I know you two are planning on ditching class for the rest of the year," he said. "But do you think you could still help us with this project? Because there's no way you're dumping all the work on Kyle and me."

"What would you do if we said no?" Hennrietta wondered with a slight sneer on her face.

"Tell PC Principal that you guys also smoke and where you like to hang out," Stan replied, not missing a beat. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"You wouldn't dare," I hissed. He shrugged.

"Only if you don't help with the project," he responded.

"Fine," I growled. "But you better not expect us to work with that hipster douche. Otherwise, there will be trouble."

"Oh god," Kyle muttered. "The new kid is a hipster?"

"And the worst kind at that," Hennrietta replied.

"Come on," I told her. "Let's get to our next class before our next teacher breaks down in tears or something." Hennrietta let out a sigh and followed me down the hall.

"What do you think is happening?" she asked, looping her arm through mine. "With people disappearing, I mean."

"I don't know," I admitted. "I haven't really been watching the news. Maybe Michael or Firkle will know more about it."

"I hope so," she replied. "Because this project sucks."

The rest of our classes passed without much incident. Unfortunately, the asshole hipster was in pretty much all of our classes. At lunch time, the four of us went to find a place outside where we could eat and smoke in peace. Michael and Firkle were already waiting for us.

"I'm just thinking we should probably continue going to class for a few weeks to get that asshole principal off our backs," Michael was saying as Hennrietta and I approached. "Maybe if he thought we were actually 'applying ourselves,' he'd leave us alone."

"What brought this on?" Hennrietta wondered.

"Michael and I went around back to see if the cost was clear for lunch," Firkle hissed angrily. "But PC Principal was waiting for us and told us to eat our lunch somewhere else."

"What an asshole," I growled. "What is his problem with us?"

"I have no idea," Michael sighed, passing his hand over his face. "Don't forget we still have detention tonight too."

I had actually completely forgotten about detention. For a moment, I considered just ditching detention, but with the way PC Principal was following us around, I doubted that we would get away with it. Instead, I let out a sigh and turned to Michael.

"It doesn't really matter," I told him. "Hennrietta and I were assigned a group project for one of our classes, and our partners are making sure that we actually help out with it."

"Why does life have to suck so much?" Firkle growled. I let out a sigh in response.

"Have you guys heard about all those people disappearing?" I asked, changing the subject. Michael looked at me in surprise.

"Yeah, my parents won't shut up about it," he replied. "How did you hear about it? I thought your place doesn't have a TV."

"It doesn't," I told him, brushing my hair out of my eyes. "But we were talking about it being the subject for our stupid project in class today. We were kind of hoping that you would know more about it or something."

"Honestly, I haven't really thought about it all that much," Michael admitted. "Mostly because I didn't really care. I guess I can ask my parents about it when I get home, although they really suck, so they probably won't know much."

"I just hope we can get through this sucky ass detention with our sanity still intact," Hennrietta complained, fishing out her lighter and cigarette. "I've got enough shit to deal with, I don't need anything else to go wrong at the moment."

"School sucks," Firkle declared, and none of us could argue with that.

 **I'm just going to end this chapter here before I ramble. Next time, we'll see the goths in detention, I'll try to remember to describe what they look like now that they're in high school, and we'll delve into the mystery of people disappearing. Also, more hipster stuff, and hopefully I can squeeze the vamp kids in there as well.**


	3. Chapter 3: Heavy Rain

**So, like I said, we're going to get more personal in this chapter. We're going to hint at stuff and stuff is actually going to happen in this chapter. I apologize if this chapter takes a while to come out. It's literally the only one I have ideas for at the moment, so I'm sorry all of my other stories are taking a while.**

 **Chapter Three – Heavy Rain**

By the time our last class was over, it was raining heavily. Not that it mattered to any of us at the moment, since we had to immediately go to detention. I would much rather catch my death out there than letting PC Principal win inside, but I followed my friends to the room where detention was held nonetheless.

I was annoyed to see that PC Principal was one who presided over detention, staring disapprovingly as we entered. The four of us had surprisingly been some of the first to get there, and we took our usual seats in the back of the room, far away from everyone else. The asshole principal stood at the front of the room with his arms folded, and though he wore sunglasses, I could tell that his eyes followed us every step of the way.

"Good of you to actually show yourselves," he sneered in our direction. "I didn't think you would actually show."

I rolled my eyes and glanced at my friends. Michael had pulled out a book and was proceeding to ignore the principal, while Firkle was staring in hatred at him, his lips curled back into a snarl. Henrietta had her head resting on the palm of her hand and was already looking extremely bored. I let out a sigh and turned to stare longingly out the window. I hadn't had a smoke in hours, and it was killing me.

"God damn it," Firkle suddenly hissed, startling me out of my thoughts. I turned to see what he was staring at and let out a groan when I saw who was entering into the room.

"Oh great," I growled. "The vamp kids got detention too."

Mike Makowski, Annie Bartlett and two other vamp kids I don't bother remembering the names of filed into the room before stopping dead at the sight of us. Mike let out a long groan before glaring at us.

"Figures that the goth kids would get detention," he sneered.

"You guys got detention too, asshole," Michael growled.

Mike opened his mouth to retaliate, but was punched hard in the side by PC Principal before he could speak. He went down like a little bitch.

"Implying goths are always getting into trouble is an offensive stereotype and I will not stand for it," the principal growled down at him.

"We don't actually care," Henrietta started to say, but the dick face of a principal interrupted her.

"Shut up, I'm being offended for you," he snapped. Hennrietta glared at him as he continued to kick Mike in the side. "Now apologize to them!"

"Sorry," Mike groaned from the floor.

"Good, now you four, take your seats," PC Principal barked.

Mike's friends helped him to his feet and he cast a glare at the principal before leading the way over to seats that were near us. I suppressed a sigh of annoyance. It seemed like no one could leave us alone these days.

I guess we were on slightly better terms with the vampire kids ever since the whole emo incident, but that had been about six or seven years ago now. We had all gone back to hating each other when we remembered that we were all supposed to be rivals, though Mike for some reason kept trying to be friendly towards us. I guess some people think that working together and risking their lives to save someone counted as becoming friends or something.

Absolutely none of us had changed physically all that much in those seven years, except to grow taller. Except for Henrietta. She had thinned dramatically over the past few years. She had grown her hair out only slightly, and I sometimes saw the other girls in our class cast jealous glares at her, but she ignored all of them. If I was a conformist, I would have said that she was absolutely hot. Oh, she was beautiful to be sure, absolutely gorgeous even, but unlike conformist assholes, I didn't look at her like she was some hot bimbo. She was still one of my best friends.

Henrietta had slammed her face into her desk the moment the vampire kids sat down near us, and I couldn't blame her. Michael had returned to the book he was reading and was completely ignoring everyone else. I noticed that for some reason Annie Bartlett was staring at Michael, trying and failing miserably to be sneaky about it. I had no idea why. Michael wasn't the most interesting person to look at, especially when he was reading. He would become like a statue, only occasionally moving to turn the page. Sure, he had longer hair now, in a ponytail because he had been too lazy to get a haircut, but still, he wasn't any different.

Firkle was shooting angry glares at the principal and the vamp kids, trying to capture all of them in his glare at once. His painted black lips were drawn back into a snarl as he muttered angrily under his breath. I couldn't make out what he was saying, and there was a good chance that he was just saying nonsense. Firkle and I were, as I said, exactly the same as we were six or seven years ago, only taller. Firkle's voice even remained high pitched.

"Now then," PC Principal said suddenly, snapping me back into reality, "Now that everyone's finally here, detention can truly begin. I want it absolutely silent in here. That means no talking and no noise making. When I come back in, you may leave."

Then he left the room and locked the door behind him. I sighed in frustration and turned to stare out the window again. That douchebag principal probably went off to make out with the vice principal or something, the sick fuck. I don't know why he bothered telling us to be silent if he wasn't even going to stay in the room with us.

Mike was still rubbing his side and casting glares at us, as if it was somehow our fault that PC Principal beat the shit out of him. I tried to ignore him, but staring out the window was only so entertaining, and my friends were all occupied with being boring. Sure, I could have worked on homework or something, but I think you and I both know that my teachers were asking too much.

I continued to stare out the window, debating on whether or not to try engaging anyone in conversation, when a flash of lightning suddenly lit up the sky outside. In that brief moment, I thought I saw something huge moving around outside, something that wasn't human, but before I could figure out what it was, it was already gone and it grew dark outside once more. I jumped in surprise at the following crash of thunder a moment later, a movement that was only noticed by Mike, who looked up at me.

"What's up with you?" he asked, giving me a suspicious glance.

I shook my head to clear it, and silently told myself to stop being so ridiculous. "Nothing," I snapped at him. "And it's none of your business, anyway." He gave me a calm, calculating look that reminded me of the hipster douche and made me want to punch him.

"There's no need for being rude," he pointed out. I highly disagreed, but I didn't say so out loud. I had been in a terrible mood all day; I didn't need him to patronize me.

Detention seemed to drag on and on with nobody saying much, until mercifully, PC Principal finally entered the room to tell us we could all go home. I let out a sigh of relief and stood to slowly follow my friends out the door.

It was still raining heavily when we stepped outside, so much so that it was already dark. Our path was illuminated only occasionally by the lightening that still flashed overhead. Luckily, Michael had his own car and we knew how to actually drive it. It wasn't the best-looking car, but it was black and goth, so we didn't care.

As soon as I got in the front seat, I dug into my pockets and brought out a lighter and a cigarette, lighting it as fast as my shaking hands would let me. Henrietta and Firkle gave me slightly angry glares as they climbed into the back seats. They never did get over the fact that I had called eternal dibs on the front seat when we were ten. They didn't even get the front seat when I was driving because it would usually be occupied by Michael then.

"Man, I thought detention was never going to end," Firkle complained as Michael turned on his music (which he always kept obnoxiously loud for some reason). "I had absolutely nothing to entertain myself the whole time."

"Detention isn't even the good kind of painful," Henrietta agreed. "It's just unbearably boring!"

Michael pulled out of the parking lot and immediately started driving towards Henrietta's house. Despite me technically owning my own place, we still went to Henrietta's house after school or when we did anything. Her room was the biggest out of all of us, and my trailer was far too cramped to hold a proper séance. It was still hard to do anything at her house with her parents always interrupting and her brother apparently always stealing anything in Henrietta's room that wasn't nailed to the ground.

When we got to her house, she led the way up to her room, grumbling under her breath and ignoring her mom when she called out a greeting. As soon as she opened the door, she let out a hiss of annoyance, and I saw immediately why. Bradley was already in there, opening the drawer to her nightstand, obviously looking for something.

He gave a start when we opened the door and he spun around to look at us with a sheepish grin on his face. "Oh, hey sis," he laughed nervously. "I was wondering when you would be getting home."

"BRADLEY!" Henrietta hissed furiously. _"Get out of my room!"_

Her brother jumped and started scurrying past us. He didn't get very far, however, when Henrietta lashed out a hand and caught him by the throat. She glared angrily down at him, pulling him closer to her face.

"What did you steal this time?" she spat.

"Nothing!" Bradley chocked.

"Don't lie to me," she snarled. "I see you holding something behind your back!"

Shaking with fear, he pulled out a book from where he had been hiding it behind his back, and Henrietta immediately snatched the book out of his hands and whapped him upside the head with it.

"Stop stealing the Necronomicon, Bradly," she hissed at him. "And stop going into my room! Don't you have enough stuff in your own room that you don't have to keep sneaking into mine all the time?"

Bradley muttered something under his breath and his sister hit him again with the book. He quickly scurried off to his room again as soon as she released him, grumbling angrily and giving her mutinous glares over his shoulder as he went. Michael stared after him for a moment before turning towards Henrietta.

"Why don't you just get a lock for your room?" he asked her. Her only response was to hit him in the face with the book as well. Then we all filed into her room.

Henrietta angrily threw the Necronomicon onto her bed and flopped down beside it, grumbling under her breath and throwing murderous glares at the door. I didn't know what she was saying, but I did catch snatches of it, like "respecting her personal space," and "needing to teach that little twerp a lesson."

The three of us spread out across her room, and I sat down on her bed next to her. With an annoyed sigh, she sat up and leaned against me. Michael and Firkle were already pulling out their books from their bags. We still had our dark poetry readings, and after the day we had, we figured we all deserved it.

I was having trouble concentrating on what the others were saying, though. I couldn't stop thinking about that image I had seen outside the window, or about that douchebag hipster. What was that thing I had seen? It definitely wasn't human, it was too big. I closed my eyes and tried to recall the image of it. That was rather difficult as I had only seen it for an instant. Maybe I hadn't even seen anything at all. Maybe I had just imagined it.

Then there was that pretentious douchebag of a hipster. God, I hated him already. It was annoying how hipsters always thought that they were going against the norm and being rebels, when in fact they just fell into their own conformist group. And that asshole was the worst case I had ever seen. He wasn't even self-aware like other hipsters. And for some reason I really hated the way he had been staring at Henrietta.

"Hey Pete," Firkle said suddenly, startling me out of my thoughts. "Are you ok?"

I blinked at him for a moment. "Yeah," I answered. "Why?"

"You've been sitting there scowling into space and shredding the pages of your book," Michael pointed out. I looked down and saw that several of the pages we had been reading were crumpled and torn to shreds, barely attached to the binding anymore. I let out a sigh.

"I have a lot on my mind," I muttered. Michael glanced at his watch.

"It's getting kind of late," he reported. "Since I guess we're actually going to school now, we might as well turn in early."

Michael and Firkle started packing up their stuff with Firkle muttering "You're not the boss of me," under his breath. Henrietta gave me a sideways glance.

"You staying the night?" she asked me.

Ever since we were twelve, I had the habit of just staying the night at Henrietta's house. It was no big deal, it was just two friends staying over. I had been too lazy to call my parents for a ride home back then, and ever since then I just didn't feel like leaving. Henrietta didn't mind; she kept saying how it was nice to have someone in her house who didn't drive her crazy.

"If you don't mind," I told her. She shook her head. Michael gave me a knowing look as we followed him and Firkle down the stairs. I hated when he did that.

We made our way back to her room once Michael and Firkle left and sat down together on her bed. She let out a sigh as she leaned against me.

"Man, I thought today would never end," she muttered. "I can't believe we have almost every class with that douchebag hipster kid."

"I know what you mean," I sighed. "What was his problem, anyway? He wouldn't leave us alone for some reason. I swear, hipsters are worse than conformists."

"They're even worse than emos," Henrietta agreed.

For a moment, I thought of voicing my other worry, about what I had seen outside the window. But that would mean that there was anything worth talking about it. And I was pretty sure that I had just been imagining things. So instead, we turned to our more common and important topics (about how everything in the world sucked), because neither of us really wanted to think about the hipster asshole any more then we needed to.

Eventually, she let out a sigh and stood up, moving over to the closet, muttering about getting ready for bed. She pulled out a spare blanket and pillow and threw them at me, then casually pulled off her top. The thing about Henrietta is that I think she sometimes forgets that her three friends are all guys, because whenever I stay over she has no problem with just undressing in front of me. She usually gave me enough warning that I could just turn around and not have to watch, but not always.

She caught the look on my face as I quickly looked the other way, and she let out a scoff. Next thing I knew, she was sitting down next to me, pressing herself against me, still without a nightshirt on and just her bra.

"You know, it's weird how guys can take off their shirts all they want and no one ever objects," she said casually. "But when a woman does it, suddenly it's all scandalous or something. Why don't they ever sensor a guy taking his shirt off?"

At least, that's what I think she said. It was kind of hard to concentrate with her pressing her chest against me and feeling her face in the side of my neck. I may be a goth, but even I have trouble thinking when there's a half-naked girl casually pressing herself against me.

She let out a sigh when I refused to look at her and rose again to go put on a nightshirt. I heard her mutter "wimp," under her breath and I took a brief moment to glare at her before going back to staring at the wall.

"You can turn around now," she said after a moment in a rather condescending tone. I rolled my eyes and looked her over. She watched as I casually tossed the blanket and pillow onto the floor before sliding onto the floor. "You know, you're always welcome to share my bed with me," she pointed out.

That was another thing she did. Constantly tell me that her bed was big enough for the both of us. I don't know why I always refused. I just did. Her floor was comfy enough, I suppose, so there was no reason to make things awkward.

A silence settled over us once she had turned off the lights, but for some reason, I wasn't able to close my eyes and fall asleep until almost one in the morning. Instead, I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling, and listening to the sounds of thunder gently roaring outside.

 **I'm going to end this chapter here before it gets too long. Next chapter, we'll hopefully start learning a little more about the mystery of the disappearing people, and we'll also get another scene with Jake the Hipster.**

 **Tell me what you guys think so far, I love the comments and remember, when in doubt, take the stick out.**


	4. Chapter 4: Who Watches the News Anymore?

**I'm hoping to start covering the mystery a little bit more in this chapter. You all already know it's werewolves, but our characters do not. Also, there's some other stuff that needs to be revealed. Like who is the leader of the pack of werewolves, and who they're going to attack and when. Intense.**

 **By the time I post this, I will have already finished work for the summer, but I'll be going to Florida soon. I'm bringing my laptop with me, of course. I'm also going to be searching for other jobs because you know, money and stuff.**

 **Chapter Four – Who watches the news anymore?**

I woke the next morning with a sore shoulder and the feeling of Henrietta's foot nudging me in the stomach. I was vaguely aware of her saying something to me, but with the little sleep I had gotten, I was too tired to bother comprehending what she was saying. The pressure in my stomach increased as she nudged me harder.

"Come on, wake up already, you lazy asshole," I heard her growl. "Michael's going to be here in like two minutes to pick us up." I groaned and rolled over, ignoring her. Then I felt her foot connect with my back and I flinched. "Get up," she ordered.

"When did you become the boss of me?" I muttered angrily, refusing to move.

"When we first met," she retorted. "Now get up already." I let out an annoyed sigh and slowly pulled myself into a sitting position, opening my eyes to glare at her.

"Happy now?" I asked.

"Never," she replied matter-of-factly. She was already dressed in her usual black dress as she reached out a hand and pulled me to my feet. "Aren't you going to at least change your clothes?" she asked as I started towards the door.

"No, why would I ever do that?" I wondered. She let out a sigh and rolled her eyes.

"You've got to stop leaving your clothes here," she grumbled, following me out of her room. "My parents are starting to ask annoying questions."

"I don't leave my clothes here," I defended. She looked at me.

"There are three of your shirts and two pairs of pants that are definitely yours in my closet," she pointed out. "I have no idea how they got there. And I know they're yours because they're all black."

"If you say so," I said dismissively.

Michael's car was already in the driveway by the time we got down to the front door. He looked over at us as we scrambled in, a cigarette casually in between his fingers. He pulled out of the driveway and started towards Firkle's house before any of us spoke.

"So, I talked to my parents about that story last night," Michael told us. "Apparently, they only happen at night, and people only disappear once a month."

"Really?" Henrietta wondered. "Then how is there a story at all?"

"Well, a bunch of people go missing at the same time," Michael replied. "Or at least, that's what my dad said. I don't know if he was right though. He was kind of drunk when he told me." He let out a sigh. "I don't know if that helps you at all."

"Hopefully Stan and Kyle found out more," I muttered. Thinking about the stupid project made me think of who else we were forced to work with. That made me realize that we hadn't exactly told Michael and Firkle about that asshole hipster kid. I should probably warn them about him, but honestly, I didn't really want to think about him at the moment.

We were silent for the rest of the drive to school, except for the occasional angry grumble. Unsurprisingly, the hipster was not any better the second day of school than he was the first. If anything, he was much, much worse. As soon as class began and we were forced to regroup, he came over and shoved his way in between Henrietta and me. Again.

"Did anyone get any headway on the story we're doing?" Kyle asked, opening his notebook. "Because my parents gave me nothing last night, and I didn't have time to watch the news at all."

"Well, thankfully my family does nothing but watch the news," Stan pointed out. "My dad said that fifteen people have gone missing and reappeared over the past three months. He said they usually go missing for three days at the very least. And my mom said that when they show up again, they have bite and scratch marks all over their bodies."

"Why only once a month though?" Henrietta wondered as Kyle began jotting down notes. "And why at night? I would say it was some sort of animal attacking them, but this seems way too organized to be some mindless animal."

There was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, but I couldn't quite figure out what it was. There was something off about all of this. Not just about what was going on, but there was something else wrong about the whole thing. I just couldn't tell what.

"They're all just attention seeking posers," the hipster said dismissively. "Like those stupid crop circles, they all just got together to pull an elaborate prank to get attention." Stan looked over and glared at him.

"If that were true," he hissed. "Then why did two of them turn up dead with large chunks taken out of them in the form of bite marks?" We all stared at him in surprise.

"You didn't say anything about that," I said quietly.

"My dad told me last night," Stan replied. "Apparently, the police aren't even sure if they're connected to the disappearing case, but they had the same marks as all the other victims, only they were dead."

The air around us seemed to grow colder and we were all silent for a moment. Then I suddenly realized there was something familiar about the way all these people were being attacked. Something that almost made sense. I didn't say so out loud though. I certainly wasn't going to look like an idiot in front of that douche hipster. Instead, I broke in with a different thought.

"How do these people act?" I asked. Stan looked at me, confused.

"What?" he wondered.

"How do these people act?" I repeated with a sigh. "You know, the victims? What were they like before and after they were kidnapped?" Stan stared in surprise before thinking it over.

"I'm not sure, my parents didn't really talk about that," he replied eventually.

"They're not really saying much on the news about it anyway," Kyle added, having pulled out his phone and looking it over. "Although they did mention that the victims have shown seemingly random acts of aggression." He looked up at me. "Why?" he asked. "Do you think it's important?"

Before I could reply, Jake the douchebag hipster let out an annoyed groan, throwing his feet up onto one of the desks. "I can't believe how seriously you're all taking this," he said. "This is just some stupid project about a bunch of attention seekers."

It took all of my willpower not to strangle him. Instead, I closed my eyes and took a long, deep breath. Don't give them attention, I told myself. That's just what he wants.

"Yes, I do think it's important," I said to Kyle, completely ignoring the hipster. I had a theory, and there was only one person I could think of who could possibly know anything about what was going on. Unfortunately, I really didn't want to talk to him. Or look at him. But, if I wanted to get out of this project as fast as possible, then I knew I would have to swallow my dignity and ask the expert.

Kyle continued to jot down notes while the hipster continued to be an unhelpful dick. Stan and Henrietta had keep the two of us from killing each other. Finally, the bell rang and we were free from that dick-face for the moment.

At lunch time, I reluctantly told Henrietta that I had something I needed to take care of and left her to find Michael and Firkle alone. I certainly didn't want my friends knowing what I was about to do. They'd think I was consorting with the enemy, which I kind of was. I still didn't have to like it though. I couldn't believe I was going to do this.

I came into the main area where most of the students ate lunch, and I saw Mike and his friends sitting in a far corner of the room. They were drinking what appeared to be tomato juice and talking in low voices to each other. I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves and making my way over to them.

Mike looked up at me in shock when I stopped in front of him with my arms folded.

"Oh hey," he greeted somewhat nervously. "What's up?" I couldn't say I blamed him for his reaction. I really couldn't believe I was standing in front of him. I let out a defeated sigh.

"I need to talk to you about something," I told him. The looks he and his friends gave me really annoyed me.

"W-What about?" he asked eventually. I growled at his friends, who had all scooched closer to listen.

"Not here," I growled. Looking extremely nervous for some reason, Mike slowly stood and followed me out of the cafeteria. I led the way down the hallway and spotted an empty classroom that happened to be unlocked. After making sure the coast was clear, I turned around to find Mike standing uncomfortably close to me. I took a step back in surprise and felt my back hit a desk.

Mike gave me a strange look but didn't move. "So, what did you want to talk to me about, per say?" he asked after a moment. I let out a sigh of annoyance. Even though he was like eighteen, Mike still was in the habit of saying "per say," and it annoyed the fuck out of me.

"Have you heard the news?" I asked him, gathering myself and reminding myself of why I was there. "About people disappearing and reappearing around town?" He blinked in surprise at me.

"Yes," he replied slowly. "It's the only news that's been on TV. What about it?"

"Henrietta and I are being forced to do a project about it, and the circumstances seemed unusual," I explained. "The victims all have claw and bite marks on them, and they might be acting more aggressively when they're found." He tilted his head slightly.

"I still have no idea what this has to do with me," he pointed out.

I let out another sigh of annoyance. Did I have to spell out everything for him? Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

"Well, who's ever doing this can't be human, because of the damage done to these people, but it also can't be an animal because of the pattern and how they don't usually finish these people off," I explained slowly. "I was _hoping_ that you might have an idea about who's doing this."

Mike stared at me with an unreadable expression in his eyes before folding his arms and leaning against a nearby wall. He let out a sigh and stared out at the classroom behind me.

"Let's just say that I have a theory," he said after a long moment. "I think I know what's going on, but I don't have conclusive evidence. All the news sources are unreliable, but I just have this feeling." He let out a sigh and glanced at me. "These people are only being captured once a month, right?"

"That's what I heard," I replied. I had a feeling I knew where he was going with this. The thought had occurred to me as well, but for some reason I didn't want him confirming my idea. Probably because that would mean we were thinking alike, which was disgusting, but also because if I was right, then the problem was much worse than we thought.

"Do you know when these people are disappearing?" he asked me, cutting into my thoughts. I shook my head.

"I don't watch the news," I informed him.

"They're disappearing during the full moon," Mike stated simply. "I know because we vampires have rituals we must complete during the full moon. But every time I start to leave, my step-dad makes me stay home because there's just been another disappearance. Then these people show up a few days later when the moon is no longer visibly full with no idea what happened to them at all."

My breath caught in my throat. "So, what you're saying is-?"

"I think this is the work of the vampire's mortal enemy," Mike said seriously. "The dreaded werewolf."

 **I think I'll just leave it at that. Can't really think of a better way to end this chapter than that. I wanted to prolong the mystery a little bit longer, but let's face it, you've all read the summery. You all know it's werewolves. The real mystery will be who the pack leader is and why they're doing it!**

 **Anyway, we'll have Michael, Firkle and Mike meet Jake in the next chapter. That's going to be fun. Remind me that I need to establish how long it will be until the next full moon so I can throw us for a loop. Remember to read and review, because you don't, I curl up in the corner and weep.**


	5. Chapter 5: Does he Look Like a Hipster?

**It's one o' clock in the morning, I'm not tired at all, got half a bottle of Dr. Pepper left and I'm wearing sunglasses. Let's do this!**

 **Chapter Five – Does he look like a hipster?**

I stared in shock at Mike, who just looked so confident with his answer. He stared back at me with an unreadable expression in his eyes. I wasn't really quite sure what to say. Now that he had said it out loud, the idea that it might be werewolves sounded ridiculous. But something about it made sense too.

"Maybe whoever is doing it just wants it to look like werewolves," I mused. "It can't possibly be actual werewolves, could it?"

"This is South Park," Mike reasoned gently. "We've seen much weirder shit. Besides, why would someone want to make it look like a werewolf, but not actually kill most of them? Why kidnap and release them soon after?"

I let out a sigh. He had a point, but it still seemed so out there. Then a vision flashed through my mind and I shuddered. I remembered looking out the window and seeing a shape outside in the bushes. Maybe it wasn't so far-fetched.

I was distracted out of my thoughts when I suddenly realized that Mike was suddenly standing right in front of me. His expression was still unreadable and his standing that close to me was making me extremely uncomfortable.

"I think we need to go over the evidence," Mike said quietly. "See if there's anything that would disprove the werewolf theory. And if there is, well then, we come up with a new theory. Simple as that."

"Ok," I said uncertainly. My heart was pounding painfully in my chest. I was having trouble breathing. I didn't like having my personal space invaded, especially by people I hated, and Mike was near the top of the list of people I hated. "Well, there's the fact that werewolves don't exist," I pointed out, trying to get my breathing under control.

"Irrelevant," Mike replied, waving a dismissive hand. I glared at him.

"Is there a reason you're standing so close to me?" I snapped. Mike's eyes widened with surprise, as if he didn't even realize how close he was. He took a half-step away from me, looking slightly embarrassed. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

Mike jumped in surprise and turned around and I glanced over his shoulder to see Jake the douchebag hipster enter the room and give us both a confused look. I narrowed my eyes at him in annoyance.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed at him. He glared at me for a moment before replying.

"I came in here to listen to my music," he explained. "The conformists of this place would probably just complain because the bands I listen to haven't sold out to become popular, so I like peace and quiet when I listen to my music."

God, what an asshole. He probably complained that his stupid music wasn't more popular because people don't have good tastes or whatever, then got mad when his band did get popular because he thinks they're selling out or some shit like that. It made me sick just thinking about it, and his sad sighing wasn't helping.

"I, of course, listen to actually good music," Jake was saying. "But unfortunately, they're unknown by the populous because the people of the world have no taste." He cast a rueful glance at me. "My guess is that you just listen to dark shit that all sounds the same. Am I right?"

I think the only thing that was keeping me from killing this guy was my ability to rise above his petty insults and keep my temper in check. That, and the fact that Mike had thrown out his arm to block me from beating the shit out of him also helped. The wannabe vampire was looking back and forth at us with a confused expression as I attempted to push past him so I could punch the douchebag's lights out.

"I'm sorry," Mike said after a moment. "Who is this guy? And why is he dressed like a pretentious asshole?"

The hipster glanced at Mike and gave him a look as if he just realized he was there. "I'm Jake," he sneered. "I just moved here. And who are you supposed to be? Not another poor lonely goth, I hope."

Mike narrowed his eyes at him. "Don't answer him, Mike," I snarled under my breath. "You don't want to give a douchebag hipster like him attention." He glared at me.

"I told you, I'm not a hipster," he growled.

"And I'm not a goth," Mike pointed out. "I'm a vampire."

I rolled my eyes and the hipster gave Mike a strange look. I knew that look all too well. He was trying to figure out if Mike was being serious or not. He stared at Mike for a moment longer before turning back to me.

"And what, pray tell, are you doing?" he asked, giving me a disdainful look. "I didn't think conformist goths like yourselves liked hanging around classrooms."

I could feel Mike reach over and gently take my arm in an attempt to calm me. I took a deep breath and glared at the asshole hipster.

"It's really none of your business," I snapped. "But we're working on the project that you're supposed to be helping on. But since you're such a lazy ass, I had to ask him for help instead."

The hipster narrowed his eyes at me before turning his judgmental gaze back to Mike. There was something going on in the strange way he looked at him, but Mike just returned his stare with a calm look of his own.

"You know there's not much difference between goths and kids who think they're vampires, right?" the asshole said after a moment.

I took a step towards him in anger, but Mike's grip on my arm tightened and I couldn't move. I was surprised to see how calm he looked, considering the way the hipster was trying to provoke him.

"To an idiot there might not seem any difference," Mike replied calmly. Burn.

The hipster scoffed. "Oh right, you probably like that trash, _Twilight,_ don't you?" he said haughtily. "Isn't it sad how so many people think it's so ahead of its time and such a romantic story? I can't believe that the majority of people think it's a great romance when it's really just a story about abuse and such."

"Actually, _Twilight_ lovers are in the minority now," Mike pointed out, and I had a feeling that he was suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. The hipster's eyes widened with surprise.

"R-really?" he choked. Mike nodded, looking mildly confused. "I mean, yeah, I knew that," he mumbled after a moment. I enjoyed every moment of his discomfort.

"I'm getting out of here," I sighed after a moment, slapping Mike's hand away from me. "I can only stand annoying assholes like you guys for so long. Thanks for the help, Mike."

I shoved past the douchebag, ignoring the angry glare he gave me and made for the door. The footsteps behind me told me that Mike was following me, and I let out a sigh of frustration. As soon as we were out in the hall, he pressed lightly against my side and I took a half step away from him, giving him a sideways glare.

"You know, when I said I needed to get away from you assholes, I was including you, Mike," I growled. He blinked at me.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered. He rubbed his arm, not looking me in the eye. "Well, I've got a lunch to get back to. I'm sure my friends are worried about me." He muttered something else under his breath and strode away. I glared after him for a moment before turning and walking in the opposite direction.

My mind was racing, I had to remember our conversation before the douchebag had interrupted us. I let out a sigh and pulled out my phone. I had a couple of texts from Michael, probably wondering where I was, but I ignored them for the moment and pulled up the internet app instead. I had to know how long it would be until the next full moon.

When I saw the date, I froze. Two days. That's when the moon would be full; in two days. I tried not to panic. We didn't know what was doing this, or if the phases of the moon had anything to do with all these kidnappings. And I don't know why I cared so much anyway. It was just a stupid project, it's not like I was going to try and get involved in all of this.

I shook my head to clear it and continued down the hall. This was ridiculous. I was probably just being paranoid. There had to be a more logical explanation than werewolves. I couldn't think of anything at the moment, but there had to be a better solution.

I pushed those thoughts aside as I finally made my way outside to where my friends were all sitting at the entrance to the school. All three of them had cigarettes in their hands, and they barely looked up when I approached them.

"It's about time you got here," Firkle growled. "Lunch is almost over, you know."

"Where have you been?" Michael wondered. I rolled my eyes at them.

"I've been busy," I snapped, reaching into my pockets for my own cigarette. "I was researching something and then that douchebag hipster wouldn't leave me alone."

"Hipster?" Firkle repeated, looking over at me with wide eyes. "What hipster?"

"Oh yeah, there's a new hipster at school," Henrietta sighed, tilting her head back to blow out a smoke ring. "He's in most of our classes." Michael and Firkle groaned in response.

"I hate hipsters," Michael growled. "They always think they're better than everyone else just because they do the opposite of what everyone else does."

"They're worse than emos," Firkle agreed. I rolled my eyes again. We had already had this conversation. We weren't going to get anywhere by constantly saying the same things over and over. How else would a hipster learn?

We sat in silence for a moment, just smoking and staring longingly out onto the streets. Then Henrietta let out a sigh and turned to me.

"So, what were you researching anyway?" she wondered. I paused. I didn't really want to tell her that I had this stupid theory about werewolves. Every time I said it in my head, it just sounded stupider and stupider.

"I was hoping the internet would have better coverage of that story we're supposed to be working on," I lied. "But I didn't really find anything useful."

"Too bad," Henrietta sighed. "I just want to get out of this stupid project as soon as possible."

I opened my mouth to reply, but I was interrupted by the sound of the bell ringing through the hallways inside. We all let out groans of annoyances, stamped out our cigarettes and slowly filed back inside the building.

The rest of school passed annoyingly enough. Henrietta and I always made sure to sit in the back of our classrooms so that nobody would notice us. Unfortunately, the hipster also liked to sit in the back of the class, and I kept seeing him snatch glances at Henrietta for some reason. He was really starting to piss me off.

When the last bell mercifully rang, we hurried to catch up with Michael and Firkle, who we found waiting for us at the entrance of the school. As we made our way outside, I spotted the hipster sitting near a tree, trying and failing to look poetic. I nudged Michael in the side and nodded towards him.

"That's the hipster," I told him in a low voice. He glanced at him, then back at me.

"Wow, he looks just as douchy as I expected," Michael said after a moment.

"He's even worse than what I imagined," Firkle piped in.

"It's sad how cool and rebellious he thinks he is," Henrietta added with a sigh. "But he's just a wannabe poser. He's not even aware of how conformist he is."

"He's one of those assholes who only likes something if it's not popular," I growled. "Then starts hating the same thing once it becomes popular, even though he was complaining that it wasn't popular in the first place. And he calls us wannabe conformists."

"You are wannabe conformists," said a snooty voice next to me, making us jump. I hadn't realized that the hipster had gotten up and walked over to us until he was standing next to me. I turned to glare at him.

"And you're an asshole hipster who has no self-awareness," I snarled at him.

"At least we're consistent," Henrietta added, narrowing her eyes at him. "We wake up every morning still liking and hating the same things. You can't even make up your mind on something unless someone tells you first."

He frowned at Henrietta, but turned to address me instead.

"I told you before," he growled. "I'm not a hipster. To say that I am a hipster would imply that I'm just like all the other hipsters."

"You are just like all the other hipsters," I pointed out.

"No, I'm unique," he stated in that annoyingly condescending voice. "Unlike you freaks, I actually have my own style."

"Oh my god," Michael groaned, rolling his eyes. "He really is one of those hipsters."

"Can I stab him?" Firkle growled, taking a threatening step forward.

"No, he's not worth it," I sighed. "Come on, let's get out of here and let him stew in his own little fantasy."

I turned my back on him and led the way down the path towards the parking lot. My friends quickly followed after me. I should know better than to answer to that retard. It was the number one rule with hipsters: don't give them attention. But I couldn't help it. He really was that infuriating. And it was hard when he wouldn't leave us alone. God, I hated him.

I asked to be dropped off at home this time. Michael gave me a strange look, but didn't argue as he pulled down towards my street. With all the bullshit that had been happening lately, I didn't think I could stand to be around anyone else at the moment. I just really needed to break something, and I could only do that in my trailer.

As soon as Michael dropped me off, I unlocked the door and stepped inside my modest living quarters. I had painted the entire outside black, but inside was made up mostly of dark wood and such. It was spacious enough so that it wasn't cramped, but it still only had three rooms: the main room, my bedroom, and a tiny shower and bathroom. There was a booth near the front of the trailer and a couch right across from it. A small kitchen area stood near the bedroom, complete with a sink, counter, drawers and mini fridge and an oven. It wasn't much, but it was home, I guess. My bedroom took up the second half of the trailer, and my bed was large enough for two people. I had managed a small bookshelf and nightstand into that room as well. I was pretty sure there were also a couple of fold out beds in the main area, but I never used them.

With a sigh, I threw my bag onto the table and my way back towards my room. My only solace in all of this was the fact that it was Friday. I didn't have to deal with any other bullshit for the rest of the week. I collapsed onto my bed, feeling a pounding headache start to take hold. I was too tired to even throw something across the room at the moment.

I guess I must have passed out at some point, because when I opened my eyes it was dark outside. With a groan, I sat up and looked around. My phone was vibrating in my pocket and I slowly pulled it out. I had a couple of texts from each of my friends, and one from Mike. Which was weird because I don't recall ever giving Mike my phone number.

Deciding that Mike's text was probably more urgent, I opened it up and read it.

 **Mike: Did you see the news?**

I let out a sigh, rolling my eyes. He has the memory of a goldfish, I swear.

 **Pete: No, I told you I don't have a TV at my place.**

There was a long pause and I decided to text the rest of my friends back while he took his sweet ass time replying to me. I was still texting Firkle when he finally replied back.

 **Mike: Oh yeah. There's already been another disappearance. It's strange that it's happening early this time. The news isn't saying who disappeared though.**

I let out another sigh. So much for Mike's theory.

I went back out into the main room and fished a notebook out of my bag and sat down at the booth. I jotted down everything I knew about the disappearances, which admittedly wasn't much. Next to it, I wrote down all possible explanations. One theory was that it was just a serial killer who really sucked at his job. Another was a cover up for stealing people's identities. That one seemed more possible. But there were children who were being kidnapped as well. Nothing about any of this made sense. Why hadn't we agreed to do a blander story?

I pulled out my phone again and went onto the internet, looking up the local stories. I was surprised when I saw that they had just stated who had been kidnapped. It was actually the teacher who had assigned us this project in the first place. What were the odds?

Next to that was a link to a list of all the people who had disappeared and reappeared. Curious, I tapped on it. There were a surprising number of names that I recognized. Craig Tucker, Token Black, Mr. Mackey, Kevin Stoley, and a few more of our teachers were all on the list. Maybe I should ask them about what happened.

The next morning, I got a text from Mike telling me that Kenny McCormick had disappeared. Then Jimmy and Timmy went missing. But none of that phased me all that much. No, the real shit happened on Sunday.

I was sitting on my couch, reading through Edgar Allen Poe's best works when there was suddenly a knock on the door. I looked up at the clock on the wall in surprise and saw that it was around midnight. Who would be knocking on my door at this hour?

I don't know what was more surprising when I finally decided to answer the door. That I had been so engrossed in reading that I didn't realize that it was raining, or the fact that it was Bradley who was standing at my door. He was absolutely drenched, and he was wringing his hands nervously. I stared down at him, trying to hide my confusion.

"What do you want?" I asked him.

"Has Henrietta been here at all?" he asked instead of answering me. I shook my head.

"I haven't seen her since yesterday," I answered. I felt my heart sink in my chest. "Why?"

He hesitated for a long moment before answering. "Pete," he said, "I think Henrietta's been kidnapped."

 **And so, it begins. I was going to have Henrietta disappear in the next chapter, but I decided that I could move it closer instead. Otherwise the next chapter would have just been mostly filler. So, now we're going to get Pete's reaction and them trying to find her in the next chapter instead.**

 **Anyway, hopefully this story will start to get more exciting now. I don't know how long it will be before I get the next chapter up. I have a lot on my plate right now, so please be patient. I have a few surprises up my sleeve for this story, so stay tuned!**


	6. Chapter 6: Creature of the Night

**Well, here we are. In an alley… I mean, the next chapter…**

 **How will Pete react to Bradley's announcement? Let's find out, shall we?**

 **Chapter Seven – Creature of the Night**

I stared down in horror at Bradley, my thoughts racing so fast that I couldn't even form a coherent sentence. Bradley looked surprisingly calmer than I was feeling. I couldn't decide what would be worse, if Henrietta had been taken by the same person who was behind all these disappearances, or by someone else. I shook my head. There was a better than good chance that Bradley was just freaking out about nothing.

I didn't really like letting anyone other than my friends into my home, but I needed to find out what had happened, and Bradley was soaked to the bone, so I stood aside and allowed him to enter. He followed me over to the booth and sat down, looking around him in a strange state of fear. I tried not to roll my eyes.

"Tell me what happened," I ordered him, sitting down across from him.

Bradley let out a sigh. "Well, I was walking back from the bathroom, and I heard a noise coming from my sister's room," he started. "I didn't think anything of it at first, there's always something weird going on in her room, but then I heard growling and a scream." I felt my blood run cold at his words, but he wasn't done. "When I opened the door, her room had been torn to shreds, and Henrietta was missing!"

I tried not to panic. There had to be a logical explanation to all of this.

"Did you tell your parents about this?" I asked.

"I tried to," Bradley responded. "But my dad just thought it was a normal look for Henrietta's room, and mother wouldn't pick up the phone. I know she didn't do it herself though because the window was broken."

"Show me her room," I ordered. He looked at me in surprise and opened his mouth to say something, but I was already standing and grabbing my coat. I had my driver's license, but I barely ever drove since my parents only had the one car (and I sure as hell wasn't going to spend my money on one!), but since it was late at night, I knew they wouldn't need their car for a while.

As soon as we got in the car, I turned it on and sped out of the driveway without even waiting for Bradley to put on his seat belt. I was a pretty decent driver, but not at a time like this. Bradley was clinging to his seat in terror as I sped down the road in the pouring rain. He screamed with fear as I ignored every stop sign and failed to slow down for any of the turns. I may have also ran a red light or something, but I wasn't really paying attention.

We got to his house in less than three minutes. I turned off the car and glanced at Bradley, who was plastered to the back of his seat in fear, the wuss. I rolled my eyes at him and quickly stepped out of the car. He followed after me shortly after, his legs barely able to support him.

"You know I'm an alien from space, right?" he asked in a shaky voice. "I could have just flown us here." I let out a disbelieving scoff.

"This was faster," I replied nonchalantly.

We hastened up to Henrietta's room, and my breath caught in my throat at the sight that greeted me. The sheets and blanket had been torn off of her bed, as if someone had clung to them while being dragged off, and there were claw marks along the floor and walls. Almost everything had been torn in two, and the window had indeed been broken, with the shattered glass spread everywhere. Clumps of fur littered the floor, and I could make out small pools of blood on the floor and window.

"What happened here?" I wondered mostly to myself. I was too afraid to know the answer, but I had to investigate. Taking great care, I inched into the room, not touching anything for the moment. I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Bradley also making his way into the room, looking around nervously.

"What could have done this?" Bradley asked in a whisper. Satan help me. It couldn't really be werewolves, could it? They couldn't exist! But, stranger things had happened in South Park before. I was standing next to an alien from outer space.

I knelt in front of one of the tufts of fur on the floor and saw that it was rather light colored. There was no way of telling who the blood came from, but the hair definitely did not come from Henrietta, that was for sure. A shiver ran through me at the entire sight of it. Then I noticed that the blood wasn't just random splatters. There was a trail leading to the window.

"There's a blood trail," I murmured. Bradley crouched down beside me. "A lot of good that does us. Even if there was a trail, the rain must have washed it away." He didn't reply as I carefully made my way over to the window. It was still raining badly, with no way of knowing which way the kidnapper could have gone.

Even so, I pulled out my phone and quickly dialed Michael's number. He was better than I was at answering the phone, and this time was no different, as he picked up at the fourth ring, albeit rather reluctantly.

"Pete, do you have any idea what time it is?" Michael grumbled to me, his voice slurred from still being half asleep.

"Henrietta is missing," I said immediately, not bothering with greetings. There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

"What do you mean she's missing?" he sputtered after a moment, all traces of sleep vanishing from his voice. I rolled my eyes, glad that Michael couldn't see me do so.

"I mean she's gone missing," I hissed. "Bradly came to my place, telling me how he couldn't find her anywhere, and we went back to his house and her room's been totally destroyed. And Henrietta is gone! And there's blood on the floor that might have come from her!"

"Calm down," Michael ordered, suddenly sounding serious. "Stay at her house for now. I'm gonna call Firkle and then we can all go look for her together."

"But-!" I started to protest.

"Just stay there!" Michael hissed, and he hung up. I let out a frustrated sigh. I couldn't wait for Michael! If Henrietta had just recently gone missing, there was a chance that whoever was behind this wasn't that far away! I couldn't afford any time.

"Stay here," I ordered Bradly, turning towards the door. "Wait until Michael and Firkle get here, and fill them in." Bradly followed me out the door and down the stairs, the panicked look on his face never changing.

"Where are you going?" he asked as I opened the front door.

"I'm going to go look for Henrietta," I growled. Then I marched out into the rain before he could protest, slamming the door behind me.

I walked around the house to under Henrietta's window in a sort of vain hope that maybe I could find a clue as to where she had gone. Unfortunately, as I had suspected, the rain had washed away any traces of blood there might have been. But there was something else that would actually do me some good. Footprints. Big, heavy, not human footprints in the mud. At least, I didn't think they were human, but they definitely weren't animal either.

They were already starting to be washed away by the rain, but I could tell which direction they were going, so I started following them, wrapping my coat tighter around myself as I went. Even now they were getting harder to make out, but I was determined. Whatever this creature was didn't seem to be hiding its heavy steps either. But it kept under trees and shrubbery to hide itself from anyone who might be on the street.

I finally lost the trail when I reached a corner at one of the crossroads. The footprints had washed away completely, and I was completely on my own. Looking around, I realized I barely recognized where I was standing. I knew I was still in South Park, but it was a part of South Park that I had never been to. Well, fuck. What was I supposed to do now? Just pick a random direction and hoped I ran into something?

Voices coming from my right distracted me out of my thoughts, and I turned to see a group of teens coming near me. They were all dressed in dark clothing, and I couldn't make out any of their faces until they walked under a street light. Then I let out a groan. What were the vamp kids doing walking around in the middle of the night in a rainstorm?

I was considering turning and quickly going down a different street, but Mike had already looked up and spotted me. He came to a sudden halt, and his followers almost ran into him. He had a look of shock and confusion on his face.

"Pete?" he said uncertainly. "What are you doing here? Do you have any idea what time it is?" I glared at him.

"I could say the same to you," I snarled, brushing my wet bangs out of my eyes. He cocked his head slightly.

"We were holding a séance at Larry's house," he announced. "We only just finished it so we were all headed home." He considered me for a moment. "But what are doing out this late?" I hesitated, wondering if I should tell them what had happened. I didn't like the vampires at all, but I was already desperate.

"Henrietta's gone missing," I told him. Mike's eyes widened with surprise and for a moment, he and his followers were silent. "She was taken right out of her room and…there was blood everywhere."

The surprise on Mike's face vanished and was replaced by a look of determination. He quickly turned to the rest of the group of vamp kids.

"You, you and you, go that direction and search the park," he ordered briskly. "You four go that way, and you three go towards the school." I stared in shock as his friends quickly followed his orders, going off in random directions while pulling out flashlights. "Larry, you and Bloodrayne take to the roofs to see if you can't see her. Annie and I will go with Pete."

"What are you doing?" I asked in a low voice. He gave me a confused look.

"We're going to help you find Henrietta," he pointed out. "What did you think we were doing?" I hadn't exactly expected Mike to actually offer to help me, let alone organize his followers so quickly. I continued to stare at him in surprise until he let out a slightly annoyed sigh and grabbed my arm, pulling me forward.

"Come on," he growled. "The sooner we start searching, the faster we can find her!" Annie hurried after us as Mike finally released my arm. "You said she was taken from her room?" I nodded silently. "I'm guessing there was a trail that brought you to that street."

"There were strange footprints in the mud," I told him quietly. "They weren't human, but they weren't animal footprints either."

"What did they look like?" Annie asked, pulling a flashlight from seemingly nowhere and waving it back and forth. I let out a sigh.

"It was hard to tell since it's been raining," I pointed out with a slight hiss to my voice. Mike pressed himself lightly against my side.

"Let's just focus on finding Henrietta for now," he said softly. "Just stick together, and keep your eyes open for anything. We may find the person who took her before it's too late with this many people searching."

I wanted to make an angry retort, stating that he wasn't allowed to tell me what to do, but I was too scared about what could happen to Henrietta to comment. Instead, we walked slowly down the street, calling out my friend's name, shining the flashlight on anything that moved. It was nerve wracking, to say the least.

Then the phone in my pocket suddenly started ringing and Annie screamed and dropped her flashlight. I flinched, knowing exactly who was calling me, and slowly reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone.

"Hello?"

"Pete!" Michael's voice snarled on the other end, not even bothering to greet me. "Where the hell are you? You were supposed to wait for us!"

"Well…"

"You went out on your own, didn't you?" Michael hissed. "What if the kidnapper found you first? How would it help Henrietta if you went missing too? I told you specifically to wait with Bradley! What are you planning to do if you actually caught up to this guy?"

"Michael, listen…" I started to say, keeping the phone at around arm's length. He didn't listen, instead continuing to shout at me, making me glad that he wasn't standing in front of me at the moment. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I turned to see Mike staring at me.

"Turn the speaker phone off," he said in a low voice.

"It's not on speaker phone," I replied. His eyes widened with surprise. Sighing, I turned back to my phone, where we could still hear Michael's voice ranting at me. "Michael, we're wasting time, give me the lecture later!" I snapped at him.

I heard him take several deep breaths before finally speaking in a level voice. "Ok," he said finally. "Where are you now?"

"On Fifth street with Mike," I said without meaning to. I hadn't intended on revealing that the vamp kids were helping me. There was a long pause on the other end.

"You're with who?" Michael asked eventually. I flinched slightly.

"Er, I ran into Mike and his ensemble of douches and they offered to help look for Henrietta," I told him. I could see Mike narrow his eyes at me out of the corner of my eye, but I ignored him. "Look, I've got downtown covered, so you, Firkle and Bradley search around the neighborhood, ok?"

"Fine, just don't do anything too dangerous," Michael replied. I was about to snap at him not to tell me what to do, but at that moment, I felt Annie press against my side.

"Tell Michael I said hi!" she ordered in a breathy voice. I stared at her for a moment.

"No," I told her before shoving her away and hanging up.

Annie let out a disappointed whimper and went over to pick up her flashlight, which had rolled under a bush. Before she could stand after retrieving it, however, something moved on the other side of the clearing ahead of us. The bushes started rustling, and I could swear I heard a low growling coming from them.

Before any of us could move, a huge shape jumped from the bushes and ran past us. It rushed past the beam of light from the flashlight, moving too fast for us to make out what it was. The only thing I saw was that it was seemingly covered in light colored hair. Then, all of a sudden, it let out a fierce growl and rushed at Mike and me.

I felt my entire body stiffen, unable to move from fear. Before either of us could react, it flashed past us. When turned around to face the thing, it was already gone. Shaking, Annie slowly stood and pointed her flashlight, but there was no sign of the creature.

"What was that thing?" Annie whispered when she could finally find her voice.

"I think that was the thing that's been attacking people," Mike replied, his voice still shaking with fear. I didn't speak, waiting for my heart to stop pounding and for my breath to return to normal.

I was suddenly feeling a bit light-headed, and there was a sudden pain in my side as my heart rate returned to normal. Beside me, Mike suddenly let out a gasp.

"Pete, you're bleeding!" he said in a surprisingly anxious voice. I looked down and saw that the side of my shirt had claw marks in it, exposing a few nasty-looking, vertical cuts in my side. I let out a groan and clamped a hand to my side.

"That thing must have scratched you when it ran by," Mike said softly, moving closer to me. "Are you ok? Do we need to take you somewhere?" I shook my head.

"I'm fine," I growled. "It's better than it looks. Besides, we have to find Henrietta. And if that thing really did take her, then it might still have her! It might still be nearby; if we…"

Before I could finish my thought, Annie let out an audible gasp. She had moved over to the other side of the clearing where that beast had appeared, and was crouching by one of the bushes, her light pointing at the ground.

"Guys!" she called to us. "There's more blood over here!"

We hurried forward to see that there was indeed a pool of blood soaking slowly into the grass. The three of us exchanged glances before carefully making our way through the undergrowth. It was darker than ever being far from the nearest street light, with only Annie's flashlight leading the way. Finally, the shrubs and undergrowth leveled out and we were in a clearing with nothing but a very old dirt path (probably an unused hiking trail or something) and an old-fashioned street light.

The street was flickering a very weak light, on the verge of going out, and huddled underneath it was a dark shape that wasn't moving. I took a cautious step forward, ignoring Mike's warning to be careful. When I could make out the shape, I felt my heart stop and my breath caught in my throat. This wasn't a creature, it was a person.

Heavily wounded and covered in blood, Henrietta lay unconscious on the ground.

 **Yup! This is where I'm ending this chapter! On a cliff hanger! Oh, don't act like you didn't totally see it coming! What was that thing that suddenly attacked them? Why did it choose to take Henrietta? Will she make it out ok? Well, you're just going to have to wait for the next chapter to have none of these questions answered! Suckers! (Love you!)**


	7. Chapter 7: I'm so Hot cuz I'm in Hell

**So, that was quite the cliffhanger we left on, huh? Ya wanna find out what happened to Henrietta and if she'll make it or not? I know you do, so let's get to it!**

 **Chapter Seven – I'm so hot cuz I'm in Hell**

"Henrietta!" I cried, rushing over to her side and falling to my knees beside her. "Oh God, please don't be dead!" She was laying on her side, while blood was still slowly flowing from some of the deeper scratches. I rolled her onto her back, vaguely aware of Mike saying something behind me. But his voice seemed strangely far away and I didn't care about what he was saying. All of my attention was focused on Henrietta.

To my complete and utter relief, I saw her chest slowly rising and falling, and a moment later she let out a faint groan. I couldn't feel anything in my body, I was so numbed with relief. She was alive, at least.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Mike staring down at us with horror in his eyes. He was more leaning on me for support than giving a gesture of comfort, and his breathing was coming almost as ragged as Henrietta's.

"I just called for an ambulance," he said in a soft voice. "They should be here shortly."

I nodded, but didn't say anything, cradling Henrietta gently in my arms. In the back of my mind, I knew I should call Michael and tell him what happened, but I didn't trust myself to speak. Or move. I just hoped that we weren't too late in finding her. She was covered in blood, and I just hoped that it wasn't all hers.

That ambulance couldn't get here soon enough. What had done this to her? I knew in my heart that whoever had attacked her was the same one who attacked all of those other people. I also knew that whoever did this was dead. At least, they were going to be when I got my hands on them. They were so fucking dead.

Mike crouched down beside me, his eyes wide and staring. I wondered if he regretted helping me or not yet. The retching sounds behind us told me that Annie was throwing up in a nearby bush. Neither of us paid her any attention.

"Whatever did this was not human," Mike said suddenly. "Whatever attacked us did this to her, and has been taking all of those people. I'm sure about it." He glanced over at me. "I know it was a werewolf, I just know it!"

I had absolutely no energy to argue with him, especially since he was probably right. I was faintly aware that Mike was pressing comfortingly against my side, the side that was injured, and I flinched in pain. He didn't say anything more as I pulled my unconscious friend closer to me, keeping my eyes down at her.

The blaring sound of a siren soon started to sound faintly in the distance, and it slowly grew louder until it was pounding in our ears. Then we were surrounded by a flashing red light, and the paramedics arrived to pull Henrietta out of my arms and onto the ambulance. The three of us were herded into a second ambulance, and they sped out of the clearing.

The paramedics kept asking us stupid questions, but I still didn't trust myself to speak, so Mike did most of the talking for us. I didn't protest as one of them began working on the scratch on my side. By the time we were finally pulling up to Hell's Pass Hospital did everything that had happened finally caught to me, and I was hit with a state of panic.

"She's going to be ok, right?" I whispered as we stepped inside. "There's no way we were too late, right?" Mike must have overheard me, because he turned to me with wide eyes.

"Of course, we were in time," he said gently. "None of the other victims were found so quickly. They'll fix up Henrietta in no time." He tried to put a hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged him off. I certainly didn't need him to comfort me.

We were forced to sit around in a waiting room while they took Henrietta to the emergency room. It didn't help my paranoia when I heard one of the doctors shouting about some sort of emergency surgery they would have to do. My heart was pounding painfully and I was having trouble breathing from all of this. I didn't think I would calm down until I was sure that my friend was ok.

I definitely knew I was never going to calm down enough to talk to Michael over the phone, so with shaking hands I sent him a quick text instead. I felt Mike press against my side as he sat down beside me, but I was too exhausted to be annoyed with him at the moment. All I could do was stare wide-eyed at the floor while Annie and Mike sat awkwardly next to me.

It wasn't long before there was a sudden commotion at the door and we turned to see Michael, Firkle and Bradley bursting through the double doors. All three of them had a wild look in their eyes, but once they spotted us, they relaxed slightly. Michael led the way over to us, but he froze when he saw the state we were in.

"What happened?" he asked, looking between the three of us with wide eyes. I flinched.

"We, er, found Henrietta," Mike started with a glance at me. "She was covered in blood and scratches, but she's alive, at least." Immediately, all three of them let out a sigh of relief before collapsing into chairs across from us.

"Is she ok?" Bradley asked after a moment.

"We don't know," Annie replied, her voice shaking slightly. "They immediately took her into the emergency room." Bradley bit onto his lower lip, panic slowly showing on his face.

"She's going to be ok though, right?" he asked, looking at the three of us.

"Where did you find her?" Firkle wondered when we didn't reply.

"On some abandoned street corner," Mike responded with a sigh. "I wasn't exactly paying attention to where we were at the moment."

We were all silent for another long moment. Then Michael's sight suddenly settled on me and the wound in my side and his eyes slowly grew wider. I flinched again as he quickly straightened in his seat.

"Pete, what happened to your side?" he asked. "How did you guys find Henrietta anyway?" I had almost completely forgotten about the scratch on my side until he had said that.

"Um, we might have been attacked," I muttered, speaking for the first time since we had first found our friend. Michael gave me a hard stare.

"Attacked by what?" he pressed.

"We're not entirely sure," I replied, refusing to look at him.

"It was some sort of monster," Mike answered at the same time. "And I'm certain that whatever attacked us was the same creature that attacked Henrietta and all of those other people." Michael gave him a look before turning back to me.

"Are you ok?" he asked with genuine concern. I blinked in surprise at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I told him. "It wasn't even that deep. I barely feel it now."

"Oh, good," he sighed, standing up. I gave him a confused look, but before I could ask him what he was doing, he quickly made his way over to my side and started hitting me in the arm. Hard. And repeatedly.

"Ow!" I growled, trying to fend off his attack. "What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with you?" he snapped, refusing to stop attacking me. "I told you specifically to wait at Henrietta's house, and _then_ I told you not to do anything dangerous! And you couldn't even do that right!"

"I didn't mean to get attacked by some monster," I snarled. "It's not like I just walked up to it and asked it to attack me! We were just looking for Henrietta! If I had waited for you, we wouldn't have found her as quickly as we did!"

He paused for a moment to consider my words. "I still don't think it was smart of you to be going off on your own like that," he muttered, calming down. "You're lucky discount Edward and Bella here were with you as well." I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

"Oh please," I growled. "These two are as helpful in a dire situation as a blind man with both of his arms cut off." Mike glared over at me.

"You're welcome for helping you find your friend," he hissed. "Asshole."

Firkle and Bradley looked back forth between us during that entire argument, not saying anything. I rolled my eyes but didn't respond to Mike's comment. I was too worried about Henrietta to think about much else, let alone care about offending Mike.

Bradley muttered under his breath, saying how he was going to go call his parents, while Annie got up to find a vending machine. I couldn't decide if I was annoyed or not that the two vamp kids were still here. On one hand, they weren't even remotely friends with us. On the other, it was admittedly kind of nice of them to worry about Henrietta like this. I guess.

The horrors of the night slowly started to wear off on us and the reminder that it was probably two in the morning suddenly hit. Every single one of us stubbornly refused to leave until we knew for sure that Henrietta would be ok. But that didn't stop the exhaustion from kicking in, and soon enough, Firkle was curled up like a cat in the chair he had chosen and was snoring softly. Annie had fallen asleep with her head resting on Mike's shoulder, her mouth hanging open, while Mike had his head in his hands. Michael's head kept bobbing up and down as he struggled to fight off his own sleepiness.

The waiting room had grown extremely quiet, so when Henrietta's parents suddenly burst into the room with loud, obnoxious sobs, everyone nearly jumped out of their own skins. Or at least Henrietta's mom was sobbing obnoxiously. Her dad followed slowly behind her looking scared and just a little bit annoyed.

"We got here as soon as we could!" Mrs. Biggle sobbed. "Where's my baby?"

"They're still working on her," Michael replied, grabbing his chest and attempting to take deep breaths as well. Mr. Biggle gave us a hard stare that made me uncomfortable. Henrietta's father never liked Firkle, Michael and me. I think he believes that it's our fault that Henrietta became a goth, despite the fact that we had all become friends _because_ we were all goths. In fact, most of our parents seemed to blame the rest of us for their child being goth. I know Firkle's mom always makes a point to state how much she doesn't like us whenever we go to his house. It was one of the reasons why we don't go to his house that often.

Mr. Biggle was the worst, though. He was a conformist, angry, disapproving and judgmental father. One of those dads who hates every male his daughter comes into contact with, whether or not she's dating them. And Henrietta definitely wasn't into the whole dating thing.

"How did you manage to find her so quickly?" he asked in a suspicious voice.

I couldn't help but flash him an angry glare. Was he trying to imply that my friends and I were somehow responsible for all of this? I was more concerned for his daughter than he ever seemed to be!

Before I could start trying to defend myself, the door to the operating room open and a tired looking doctor stepped out, sighing and pulling off his gloves. We all immediately jumped to our feet and rushed over to him, pushing past Henrietta's parents in the process.

"How is she, doctor?" Michael asked nervously.

The doctor took a moment to pause dramatically before speaking. "She's going to be fine," he finally replied. We all let out sighs of relief. "She'll have some nasty scars, but Henrietta's going to live." He gave us all a searching look. "It's amazing that she's as well as she is. She should be in critical condition, but she's completely stable." He looked over at Mike, Annie and me. "Do you know what could have possibly done this to her?"

I jabbed Mike hard in the ribs with my elbow before he could start spewing nonsense and spoke over him when he tried to speak anyway.

"We don't know," I said. "We just sort of found her that way."

"Can we see her now?" Bradley asked, stepping forward. The doctor shook his head.

"What this girl needs now is rest," he replied. "As do the rest of you. You all need to go home and get some sleep for now. I'll make sure to inform you as soon as she wakes up."

Bradley looked like he wanted to protest, but the doctor had already turned and walked away. His parents quickly came over to usher him out the door, while Michael turned to Firkle and me. Mike was rubbing his side and glaring at me, but I ignored him.

"I guess we should get home too," Michael decided with a sigh.

"Why did this have to happen on a Sunday?" Firkle mumbled, leaning heavily on me as the three of us made towards the door. "I'm going to be so fucking tired at school tomorrow! I won't even be able to hold up my cigarette!"

I opened my mouth to reply, but Mike suddenly came up right behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to see him and Annie standing there looking awkward.

"Can Annie and I get a ride with you guys?" he asked.

"Why?" Michael replied, cocking an eyebrow. Mike rubbed his arm and looked up at the ceiling, avoiding our gazes.

"Um, I didn't exactly get my driver's license," he explained. "So, neither of us have a car."

"What happened?" I sneered. "Did you bomb the test five times in a row like a total failure?" He took a moment to glare at me.

"It was only three times," he growled. "And I didn't 'bomb' it! I just have trouble parallel parking, and apparently that's a big deal or something."

"And what's this bitch's excuse?" Firkle wondered, nodding at Annie, who was currently giving Michael the bedroom eyes. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"That's none of your business," she replied.

"Why don't you just take the bus?" Michael suggested. "Or walk home?"

"Oh, come on! Please?" Mike begged. "It's dark and rainy out there! And cold! And that creature might come back!" My older friend sighed loudly, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Fine!" he growled. "But you better not touch anything in my car! Or say anything stupid, or I will kick you out."

Then he turned on his heel and led the way out of the building, leaving the rest of us to follow him. It was a little more crowded in his car than usual, with Mike and Annie also sitting in the back, but Firkle was still kind of tiny, so they weren't getting crushed or anything. Firkle did look annoyed at having to sit in between them, though, and for some reason Mike looked disappointed about something.

I only just remembered to tell Michael that I had left my car at Henrietta's house, and he gave me a concerned look as he drove towards her house. I have no idea why. It wasn't like whoever was doing all of this was just going to materialize inside the car.

"Are you sure you don't want someone to go with you?" Michael asked. "It is really late, you know." I rolled my eyes at him.

"I have driven in the middle of the night before, Michael," I pointed out to him.

"I can ride with you," Mike offered instantly. I turned in my seat to glare at him.

"And why would I want you to do that?" I snarled. He blinked in surprise at me.

"Because, you know, my house is only, like, a block away from your house, and it would save Michael a trip," he replied. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"How do you know that?" I questioned. He turned his gaze away from me.

"I just do," he mumbled. "It's not that hard to work out where everyone lives in South Park." I continued to glare suspiciously at him, but didn't say anything more as we arrived at Henrietta's house and I hopped out of the car. I knew Mike was going to follow me anyway, no matter what I said, so I wasn't surprised to hear the door on his side slam shut and footsteps follow me a moment later.

I let out a sigh as he climbed into the front seat of my parent's car, and I took a moment to fish the keys out of my pocket while also giving him a sideways glare. He wasn't looking at me and was instead looking around the interior of the car.

"I thought all goths would only own and drive black cars," he admitted, glancing at me.

"It's my parents' car," I growled, backing out of the driveway and speeding down the road. He made an indistinct noise and didn't speak for a moment. Which was good because I already hated talking to him; I didn't want to listen to his stupid voice while I was driving and half-asleep. And I needed to collect my thoughts.

"I'm worried about Henrietta," he said suddenly, almost making me jump. "If she got bitten by that werewolf, she could be in danger of becoming one herself."

I shot him a sideways glare. "It wasn't a werewolf," I told him.

"Really?" Mike asked in a sarcastic voice. "Then what would you call that thing that attacked us?"

"Impossible to identify," I growled. "We couldn't see the thing clearly. It could have been anything!" He glanced over at me, silent for a long moment.

"Pete, you believe that it's werewolves too," he said matter-of-factly. "I know you do. Why else would you have come to me for help in the first place?"

I growled and muttered a curse under my breath, refusing to look at him. I hated how annoyingly perceptive he was. The prick.

"Will you shut up already?" I snarled. "I'd like to concentrate on driving, if you don't mind." He let out a huff and was silent for a full five seconds.

"You know, there is no good reason why the two of us can't sit here and have a civil conversation," he pointed out. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I can think of a reason," I told him.

"Which is?"

"I don't like you!" I hissed. He blinked at me with shock in his eyes. There was also something else in his expression, but I didn't care enough to figure out what it was. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but no noise came out.

"You can't think of one thing you like about me?" he asked, hurt coloring his voice.

"Nope," I replied shortly.

He let out a weird sort of sigh, then muttered that his street was on the right. He asked to be let out on the street corner, which I was more than happy to do. But before he could climb out of the car, I reached out a hand and stopped him. He looked at me in surprise, and I really couldn't blame him. There was something I had to say, but it was almost too embarrassing.

"By the way, I didn't actually thank you for helping me find Henrietta," I muttered. "So, thanks for helping me. And I'm sorry for dragging you around town for half the night." His look of surprise was replaced by a gentle smile.

"No worries," he replied. "We vampires are nocturnal anyway." He put his own hand briefly on my shoulder before quickly withdrawing it. "I should go, then," he said. "Before my step-dad wakes up and realizes that I snuck out and have been gone for most of the night."

I stared in shock at him as he quickly opened the door and hopped out. I'm not sure why the idea of Mike sneaking out of his house surprised me so much, but it did. I watched him walk down his street for a moment before shaking my head and driving away.

The moment I got back to my place, I went to the back and collapsed on my bed, too exhausted to even change my clothes. Before I passed out, I prayed desperately to Satan that somehow Mike and I were both wrong. Then I fell into a dreamless sleep.

 **And that's where I'm going to end this chapter, because I've kept you all waiting long enough. I know what's going to happen in the next chapter, so hopefully I'll have it out for you a lot sooner.**

 **Sorry it took me so long to finish this chapter, I've been dealing with some stuff lately, and it's made me depressed. More than usual, at least. But, I think I'm finally starting to feel a little better so hopefully I'll have these chapters out a little faster.**


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